See that lady over there,
reading a magazine shiftily,
she looks shady,
maybe she is just some women with a husband and a baby.

But maybe she is secretly a spy,
doing sneaky dropoffs under ominous skies,
maybe she speaks to contacts
and tell them how in russia the fallen leaves are black,
maybe she could track
a man through forest so thick you could lose an army,
maybe she is smarmy, or sexy, ludicrously racy
she entices men, with a smouldering look,
then silently, carefully, assasinates them.
Or maybe she is just a lady with a husband and a baby.

What about that man, over there,
staring into space with the city suit
and the cheap black laptop case,
maybe he is in a race
to uncover the face of the man who chased him home,

maybe he always checks his phone
because he is an ex homie of the ghettos in the city,
maybe he was the head of a gangster army,
maybe he used to beat people up for money.
Maybe he is a businessman on his way back
after a hard day
maybe he is doing the same thing he has done everyday
but maybe he is on a mission of revenge
for a recently released criminal friend
who is in trouble again and that's why he looks spent.
Probably he is just a person from the city.
But maybe.
Just maybe.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Second of the train poems, i liked it. Looked at some people and made up some lines

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